


Blood of Cichol

by TheGrammarHawk



Series: Hawk's Ferdibert Week 2020 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Church Route Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Time Skip, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrammarHawk/pseuds/TheGrammarHawk
Summary: Hubert had noticed the changes in Ferdinand a little over a week ago.Ferdinand starts behaving strangely. A nightmare Hubert had never considered before begins to take over.Ferdibert Week Day 5:Nightmares/Dreams/Memory Loss/Possession
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Series: Hawk's Ferdibert Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871527
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52
Collections: Ferdibert Week 2020





	Blood of Cichol

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey! if you haven't done the last battle in silver snow, you might not QUITE get what i'm getting at, but it should be explained enough in the story regardless! of course this isn't as fast acting...

Hubert had noticed the changes in Ferdinand a little over a week ago.

It was subtle, at first. He would stare off as if in another world during meetings, a complete shock when compared to how usually attentive he was. He seemed to lose control of his strength in sparring, an eerily comparable circumstance to their main enemy of the war.

Arguably the _strangest_ thing was how little he paid attention to Hubert nowadays, instead lingering near others – near Edelgard, which was normal, and near Bernadetta, which the girl complained about more than usual now, and _most_ oddly he seemed to hover around Linhardt, who was entirely unamused.

Ferdinand didn’t even seem to be aware that he was doing it. Edelgard, of course, was explainable. Bernadetta too, they had become closer over the years.

Linhardt, however, compared the new companionship to the feeling of being stalked, which Caspar _immediately_ took issue with. Yet when confronted Ferdinand acted surprised – and _how_ could he not realize that his new daily schedule always made sure to keep Linhardt in his sights?

He began getting restless at night, seemingly unhappy with being trapped in the room with Hubert to rest. Complaints of noises being sharper than usual – _how_ could Ferdinand hear a single guard walk from down the hall? – and mutterings of a headache.

The reason for the latter became obvious, at least. It wasn’t long before Hubert combed through Ferdinand’s hair with his fingers to find two hard, flesh-covered bumps raised along his hairline.

It was no tumor according to any of the healers. Even stranger was what Manuela noticed when she did a closer inspection of Ferdinand’s head:

Some strands of hair were no longer orange, instead darkening to a thick, forest green.

It all came to a head when Hubert finally, _finally_ put the pieces together.

A letter from _Flayn_ of all people was intercepted along the empire’s supply routes, as though the healer _knew_ what would happen if she attempted such a thing. She and her father had gone into hiding after the professor had spared their lives. It was incredibly dangerous, incredibly _stupid_ for her to reach out.

But it had worked. One of Hubert’s men had delivered him the letter, saying they had stolen it from its path to the kingdom – only for Hubert to open the letter and see it was addressed to _him_. His name was scrawled neatly at the top, as was Edelgard’s and the professor’s, and for a moment it had Hubert wondering if they had direly underestimated the girl.

The news she shared was grim: the Agarthans, _damn_ them, had ambushed them while the war front pushed harder into Faerghus. In a desperate attempt to save his daughter, Seteth had urged her to flee and leave the enemies to him.

Flayn hadn’t seen him since.

This was not simply a plead to aid her family, however, it held much deeper, darker, implications.

 _If the Agarthans’ torture is too much, he could lose his mind,_ Flayn had warned, _while I know that we have already fallen in your debt too many times to count, I cannot let you ignore this! By now I am certain you are aware of our identities, so I shall state it such as this: crests will always be linked to their originating source, and if that source is living, the connection is living as well! If Cichol’s mind breaks, and he calls for his kin, any and all with his blood shall-_

Hubert had not read further, could not read further. His vision had gone red, blinded with hot anger.

They didn’t have time to regroup and steal a captive of the Agarthan’s, not while they still needed allies. But if leaving Cichol imprisoned was a threat to Ferdinand’s very _being_ …

Within the next week, they had neared the kingdom’s capitol.

Within the next week, Ferdinand’s horns had grown to a foot long, and a thick, spiked tail had appeared. The orange had all but disappeared from his hair.

Even his eyes were green.

The professor had thought it safe to allow him to keep fighting nonetheless. His strength was… more impressive than ever, though that did nothing to soothe Hubert’s growing concerns.

Especially not when a skirmish ended with the sound of a mournful, ringing howl.

Byleth had changed up the tactics, this time. Hubert fought strictly with Bernadetta as a cover, Ferdinand having been moved to guard near Linhardt. It was practically all the man could do to have Ferdinand keep focus – sometimes he would just stare off in the distance as though he could hear something no one else could. They had quickly discovered that if Ferdinand was placed near others with crests he seemed more aware of himself – _especially_ if it was the crest of Cethleann.

The battle was _over,_ it should have been fine, so Hubert allowed himself a glance to the demonic beast’s howling-

It was no demonic beast.

Further along the battlefield Linhardt had seemingly been knocked to the ground; Hubert would have been more concerned if he appeared dead, but the healer was already back on his knees, an arrow in his shoulder the only obvious wound.

Certainly Linhardt would have gotten up all the way if not for the massive creature above him. Not a demonic beast at _all_ , Hubert decided, eying the thorny tail, spiky back, and massive horns on the obviously reptilian _thing_.

 _This_ monster was a full-blown, Nabatean-legend of a _dragon_ , and judging by the timbre of its pained, confused roars that echoed in everyone’s ears–

 _Ferdinand_.

Hubert did not hesitate to run towards him. He watched as Petra grabbed Linhardt and tugged him back from the monster’s – from _Ferdinand’s_ massive jaws, Linhardt shouting an uncommon expletive that Petra mirrored. He wasn’t concerned about his companions – Ferdinand wasn’t going to harm them, he _couldn’t_.

And Hubert’s intuition was correct – he watched as Ferdinand lifted his massive, scaly head and rise to a dizzying height as he stood back on his haunches. His blood ran cold as he watched Ferdinand’s jaw slowly unhinge, a bright flare of light similar – _too_ similar – to the Immaculate One’s building in his mouth before shooting off to raze the nearby forest, where…

_“Subdue the beast! Let him fuel our experiments with more cursed blood!”_

The Agarthans – _here_? _Now_? They couldn’t – and Ferdinand–

_“Your blood will be used for greatness!”_

All Hubert could hear over the yells of Thales’ orders was the stricken bellow that came from the one he loved most as a dark bolt of magic struck him in the heart.

_“Ferdinand!”_

***

Hubert shot up in bed, nearly crashing into the dresser along the wall as he did so. He was clammy, sweating from the – the _nightmare_ , it seemed, and he let himself fall into the near chair, staring at himself in the mirror for a moment.

He looked like _shit_. With a sigh, he sunk his head into his hands, inhaling deeply as the adrenaline left him.

“Hubie?”

Ferdinand rose sleepily from their shared bed, brushing his mussed orange hair back over his shoulder as he came to his fiancé’s side. Once there, he draped himself over Hubert’s shoulders like a personal heated blanket, nuzzling his face into Hubert’s neck.

“Was it another nightmare, my love? The war is over. We killed the Immaculate One two weeks ago. There is no need to worry…”

The strong arms around him grounded him, and Hubert ducked his head, pressing a soft kiss to them as he did. The comforting scent of iron and tea filled his senses, and he almost felt calm.

With a soft peck to Hubert’s ear, Ferdinand shifted one hand away. “Maybe… hm, this will help? To reassure you that… it is me, Ferdinand von Aegir.”

Hubert snorted lightly at the yawn that accompanied Ferdinand’s name, a spoken habit that clearly could not be broken in such a tired state. Even better, his palm laid flat on the dresser, the small glimmer of his crest lighting up the room and proving his identity. A smart move, given that there was still the threat that slithered in the dark to be dealt with, regardless of Rhea’s fall.

“Thank you,” Hubert breathed, reaching up to run a hand briefly through Ferdinand’s hair, soft and _bright_ even in the dark, as Ferdinand’s eyelashes continued fluttering against Hubert’s neck, the man clearly longing to go back to bed.

“I… am fine now,” Hubert decided, feeling Ferdinand sag against him in agreement to go to sleep. “Thank you for reminding me of that, my love.”

With that, Hubert gently took one of Ferdinand’s hands in his, lifting it in order to kiss his knuckles as he finally looked up, meeting Ferdinand’s sleepy smile in the mirror as the man lifted his head in order to drag Hubert back under the covers.

The eyes he met were green.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was partly inspired by my other fic, Chamomile over Coffee, in the layout of the story. Part of me wonders if any of you agree, or saw through my bullshit immediately lmao
> 
> For the record, I use "possession" of these prompts lightly in the consideration of Ferdinand being possessed by Cichol! It's not exactly what you might expect for a possession, but I think it works!
> 
> There's more to this idea that takes place in the story, I won't lie. I think of it in my twin au realm though, so I thought this would be simpler for the ship week!


End file.
